


A Train Bound to Nowhere

by flipflop_diva



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Gen, Humor, Investigations, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-17 14:09:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4669502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a trap. It had to be a trap. Because how could anyone believe what the crazy guy in the dress and waving a baton was saying? Magic wasn't real ... (A Brooklyn Nine-Nine and Harry Potter crossover)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Train Bound to Nowhere

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stillscape](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stillscape/gifts).



> Stillscape, thank you so much for requesting this! When I got the assignment, I had no idea what I could possibly do to make it work, but then this happened, and I had so much fun with it. I hope it's at least a little like you were wishing for!
> 
> Title inspired by Kenny Rogers' 'The Gambler', just because it's what popped into my head as I was writing this.

“I am telling you,” Jake said, for maybe the tenth time because none of these people was listening to him, which was probably because they were so full of fish and chips and whatever it was that Scully had been eating when they were at the creepy pub that Amy had wanted to try that their ears had been stuffed up by the fat, too, “that this is all one big hoax, and I don’t even know why we are doing this, because do you hear yourselves? Witches, wizard, magical children? Have you people lost your minds, because I think you have lost your minds.”

“Oh, Jake,” Gina popped up, turning to look at him. Somehow the eight of them — minus Terry because _someone_ had to stay back in New York and also because his wife said no, he absolutely could _not_ go to London for the world detective convention — were the only ones on this very odd train that had come to pick them up. Except for the weird old lady pushing a trolley. Jake still didn’t know what that was about. “You need to let your mind expand. The world is not limited by what we can see. Magic exists all around us.”

“No,” Jake said. “It does not. You know what does exist though? Bad guys. Bad guys pulling hoaxes on us and trying to kill the gullible Americans.”

“Hey, I am not gullible!” Amy said. “I questioned the man for hours!”

Jake peered at her and rolled his eyes. “Really?” he said, trying to keep his voice serious but totally failing because, please, how could anyone actually take this seriously? “You questioned the man with the two-foot long beard wearing a dress and waving a baton, and when he told you that ‘someone’” — Jake made sure his air quotes were the most exaggerated motion ever — “was trying to hurt his ‘magical students’” — another air quote — “in his magical castle that normal people can’t see, you thought that sounded legitimate?” Jake didn’t even bother reminding them of the weird voodoo the guy had then tried to cast on them to supposedly let them see and enter this magical castle place. It was the biggest ball of baloney he had ever heard.

But Amy was scowling at him and looking offended, though that was pretty much an every day happening and totally did _not_ bother him in the least.

“He sounded totally sane and legitimate,” she argued. “And the captain believes me!”

And his name, Captain Holt looked up. “I just wanted to ride a train,” he said, as always, deadly serious. “I do love trains. I am very excited to be on this one.”

Rosa now turned around. “I’m with Jake,” she said. “This whole thing is stupid.”

“Thank you, Rosa!” Jake said.

“You guys will see,” Gina said. “You will become believers.”

“Believers in the ridiculousness maybe,” Jake said. Down the hall, he heard the bell of that trolley thing again. “Hey, Boyle, go get me a snack.”

Boyle was up and out the door in a second, practically stumbling over his feet as he went. Jake leaned back in his seat and smiled. Even if they were flying down the tracks to their deaths — as he was quite sure they were doing — he might as well have some good candy before it all ended.

•••

So it really was a castle. That was a bit surprising. Jake had expected the weird deserted train to drop them off in the middle of the woods or at a half-falling down, abandoned shack or some really old house that had obviously seen better days. But this castle looked pretty nice. Really tall, with a huge green lawn in front and a lake off to the side. 

“Someone sure has a lot of time on their hands to be this detailed in their plotting,” he mused out loud, then snapped his fingers. “I know!” he said. “It’s not just a one-person lunatic that Amy fell for but a whole ring of people who plot the murders of American cops and bury their bodies in the woods!”

Amy scowled at him again. “Or maybe,” she said, “it’s a school for gifted magical children and they need a competent badass team of detectives to help them figure out the problem they are having.”

Jake snorted. “No,” he said. “That is so not it.”

Amy ignored him and marched by him, straight up the steps to the gigantic front door. Because the smartest thing to always do is to just knock on the door so the murderers know you are there. Did that woman never listen to anything Jake said?

It didn’t take long for the door to open, and surprise of all surprise, it was the crazy man with the long beard, still wearing a dress and waving his baton. 

“This guy really goes all out, huh?” Jake muttered to Boyle, gesturing with his thumb. Boyle nodded eagerly in agreement.

“I’m ready to take him down,” Boyle whispered to Jake. “Just say the word and-” Boyle stopped talking to demonstrate what he obviously thought of as a karate move. Jake waved at him to stop that.

“Don’t attract attention!”

“Oh, right, sorry.” Boyle giggled, and Jake had to look away to roll his eyes.

Amy was introducing everyone to the crazy man now. Because it was always good to give psychotic killers your name. Seriously, had she not attended “Catching a Murderer 101”?

“Captain Holt,” she was saying, as the Captain nodded.

“Thank you for inviting us,” Captain Holt said. “This is indeed a very impressive school.”

The crazy guy beamed. “Isn’t it?” he said happily. “Come in, all of you! We have much to talk about!”

•••

The first thing Jake noticed was the moving staircase. And not moving like an escalator. No, it was moving like it was a Disneyland ride gone haywire. 

“Interesting,” he mused as the crazy guy led them into a huge room beside the stairs that he called the “Great Hall.”

“Great for killing people maybe,” Jake muttered as they entered. Amy elbowed him in the ribs. Apparently she was listening to him, which was odd, because Jake had thought the crazy man was the only thing she could hear anymore.

The room was filled with tables and what seemed like thousands of candles. He’d never seen so many candles in his life, even in the world’s biggest candle store (which he had been to, mind you, dragged there once upon a time by a crazy ex-girlfriend). But more strange than the amount of candles was the fact that half of the candles were flying.

Jake squinted up at the ceiling, trying to see how the candles were held there. It had to be rope or some very thin wire. Crazy guy and his crazy minions had done a good job, though. He couldn’t see anything.

The crazy man was starting to talk now, thanking them all for being there, but Jake paid no attention to him at all. He was definitely not about to go on some fake investigation for some crazy guy who just wanted to bury them all in the giant lake he had spotted outside. Oh, no. The others might be gullible and impressed by things like trains, but not him. No, he was going to stop this crazy man before the crazy man stopped him.

Jake peered around. Everyone seemed to be listening to the crazy man who was mentioning something called a “thestral,” whatever that was supposed to be. Good. It was better if they were occupied. He ducked down under the closest table.

Now to find those wires …

•••

Okay, so the investigation was not exactly going well. Not the investigation the crazy guy had wanted them on — Jake did not care about missing imaginary students and theft of some totally crazy made up animal (unless a thestral was some weird British animal? Jake wasn’t sure), and besides Amy, Scully and Hitchcock were all over that whole mess. He kept seeing them rush by, talking animatedly, like they were about to break the world’s biggest case. 

The others were all occupied as well. Gina was off making friends with some dark-haired pouty girl named after some flower. Captain Holt was engaged in intense conversation with the crazy man (obviously keeping him distracted so Jake could work), and Rosa was guarding the front door, arms crossed, glaring heavily and sharply asking, “And who are you and where do you think _you’re_ going?” every time one of the fake students in their bathrobes walked by. (Seriously, this scheme was very elaborate. Jake was almost impressed.)

It was, unfortunately, Jake’s investigation that was not going well. He could not figure out where the controls were in this castle. At the moment he was currently hanging on to the back of the moving staircase, searching for the motor, and being secretly afraid he was going to be crushed to death.

“They have hidden the controls very well!” he yelled to Boyle as the stairs twirled him around the room. “But we must prevail!”

So far, everything was hidden well. He still hadn’t found the wires that were making the candles fly through the air, and then there were other bizarre things, too, that must have also had controls — the way the candles just lit themselves, the way the people in the photos moved, the way a gigantic plate of food just appeared on the table in the Great Hall when they were about to leave (Jake had stolen a pastry of some sort. It tasted good, and he hadn’t died, so it wasn’t poisoned). But it _was_ a huge castle. Probably filled with secret rooms and hidden alcoves and underground tunnels and all sorts of crazy things that were perfect for hiding controls and wires and computers.

Or maybe the controls were on the back of these stairs somewhere. He clung to them more tightly and kept looking.

Until the stairs stopped suddenly and Jake came tumbling out to land at the feet of Gina and the girl with the flower name who looked nothing like a fragile and friendly flower. 

“Hey!” he grinned up at them. “No missing students or creatures with made-up names under here!”

Gina shook her head at him. “Jake,” she said, “you must believe. And only then will all be clear.”

Jake cast a look at the flower-named girl. She looked a bit like she wanted to kill him. Maybe _she_ was the hired killer?

“I believe, I believe,” Jake said quickly, trying to scramble backward.

Gina shook her head again. “You are such a Muggle,” she said. “I feel sorry for you.” She turned and walked away, flower-named girl following after her. 

“I am not a mug … or whatever!” Jake yelled after her. “I will find out the truth! I will! If it’s the last thing I do, the truth will be mine!”

•••

Two days later, Jake slunk into a compartment on the weird old train and tried to lock the door before anyone joined him. Unfortunately he was not that lucky.

“I told you you should have believed,” Gina said. She was now dressed like she was a witch herself, complete with a robe with a blue hood — apparently some talking hat told her she would have been a raven or something — and her own personal baton. 

“I am not believing anything,” Jake said, “except some crazy people went to an awful lot of trouble to make us believe in this magic crap.”

“Oh, Jake,” Gina said. “Your letter to Hogwarts is never going to come if you keep talking like that.”

Jake looked out the window. He could see the old castle fading away into the night as their train moved further and further in the opposite direction. He wanted to tell Gina that he hoped he never saw that old castle or the crazy guy again, but the words wouldn’t leave his mouth.

Instead he got up and went to find the weird old lady with the trolley. Magic wasn’t real, he told himself, as the lady handed him a piece of candy she claimed was actually some sort of frog (which, ewww, gross. Jake gave that thing to Boyle). Everything that had happened was a scheme. The moving stairs, the flying candles, the fake students flying on brooms … it could all be explained. Just like how the missing imaginary students and the disappearing made-up animals were supposedly just taken by a really angry student who wanted revenge for something or other that Jake hadn’t listened to when Amy gloated to him about her success.

If he had just had more time in the castle, if had maybe just pressed the crazy man a little more, he would have succeeded on his investigation too. He would totally have found out the truth and gotten a confession.

Because magic wasn’t real. 

It was not real. 

It wasn’t ….

Was it?


End file.
